


Falling Slow in Love

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, inspired by carafin's hang out fall in love, magical bakery au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7898371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kunimi had a disease that caused any magic he used to be tainted with his emotions and desires, so it was understandable that he was a little freaked out when he baked a crush into a breakfast roll without even realizing he'd done so.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“That boy you like,” Oikawa said. “Tall, has a shallot in place of hair? He looks at you as if he has a crush on you.” And then Oikawa strode out of the kitchen, humming a catchy melody, apron strings hanging haphazardly down his back. </p>
  <p>Kunimi stood stock-still, whisk trailing batter into the bowl. Kuroo flattened his mouth as if he were tasting something unpleasant and said, “Don’t let Oikawa hear me say this, but he’s kind of right.” </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Slow in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [hang out fall in love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5180954) by [carafin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carafin/pseuds/carafin). 



“Kunimi-kun, come out of there, will you?”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Kunimi called back, idly popping a chocolate chip into his mouth. He felt like a refugee, hiding out in the sanctuary of the back kitchen, surrounded by the familiar smells of flour and sugar and salt.

Valentine’s Day was coming, a holiday any self-respecting magical bakery would be stupid not to take advantage of. The shelves were bewitched to glow multiple shades of pink, chains of paper hearts floated across the ceiling, and over half the products sold contained some kind of love charm or other and Kunimi couldn’t _stand it._

Kunimi had _Kanjo,_ a disease that caused any magic he used to be tainted with his emotions and desires, and he’d spent sixteen years of his life trying to get it under control. His apathy was his shield, and the romantic feelings blasting at him from all sides were threatening to tear his indifference apart.

Kunimi hated Valentine’s Day. Even in the kitchen there were signs of it: heart-shaped molds, pre-made chocolate roses, red food-coloring splashed all across the tiles. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out, magic coursing through his veins and depositing itself into the mixing bowl in front of him. He was making matcha rolls, which were designed to hold fly charms, and his magic nestled itself into the folds of cream and anko and took on a different shape.

“Hey, Kunimi,” Daichi’s voice called, and Kunimi’s attention whipped towards the doorway. Daichi was holding a sheaf of papers which appeared to be the timetable their manager, Mai Nametsu, had painstakingly designed. “It’s time for your shift.”

Kunimi sighed. “Be right there.” He placed the mixing bowl down onto the table and headed for the front desk. Next to the southeast window was Kindaichi, doing his homework. Technically Kindaichi was loitering, but he got to stay just like how Kenma got to hang out in the back playing his PSP and how Sugawara got fifty-percent discounts on everything he bought.

The bakery was filled with people idly walking around and browsing through the selections: groups of girls giggled near pink heart-shaped boxes; children tugged at parents’ sleeves while pointing toward outrageously unhealthy delicacies; the bell dinged again and again. Kunimi rang up purchases and tried to project himself anywhere but there.

Matsukawa, the renowned witch doctor, came to the register and asked if there were any un-magicked cream puffs with a sheepish smile. Because Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s combination cures had worked more times than Kunimi could count, he took a plate of cream puffs, sucked the magic out of it, and handed it to Matsukawa.

Because taking magic out of things did require a decent amount of effort, Kunimi subtly retaliated by placing the cream puffs in the most obnoxiously pink and heart-shaped box the bakery had to offer, just to let Matsukawa know that the entire town had heard about his and Hanamaki’s relationship-starting make-out/food-fight session. Matsukawa blushed, said “thank you,” and hurried out of the store.

Half an hour into Kunimi’s shift, Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru walked in. Kunimi knew Oikawa’s name because he was the most popular third-year in the school, and Kunimi knew Iwaizumi’s name because Kindaichi used to harbor a painfully hopeless crush on him. It was obvious, however, that Oikawa and Iwaizumi were in some semblance of a relationship, although whether or not they were aware of that was unclear.

Kunimi glanced over at Kindaichi. Kindaichi wore his heart on his sleeve, his soul on his face, his mind on his Extensor Carpi Radialis- honestly, that boy could not hide a _thing_. But Kindaichi’s face remained neutral, not even the slightest bit hurt, and for some reason something in Kunimi’s body exhaled in relief, although he rang up Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s purchase (hair-fluffing milk breads) with the most judgemental stare he could muster.

\---

After Kunimi was done with his work, Kindaichi offered to do Kunimi’s share of the cleaning so that Kunimi could get his homework done. This happened every single night, and yet Kindaichi offered every single time, and Kunimi answered with a “thanks,” as if it weren’t a common occurrence.

After Kindaichi had finished, he flicked the power switch off and the bakery dimmed, illuminated only by the setting sun. Kindaichi’s silhouette crossed over to where Kunimi was shoving his books into his bag, and a shadow of his mouth asked, “Hey, mind if I stay at yours tonight? My parents are out of town, so I need some place to crash.”

“Sure,” Kunimi said, and thought of Kindaichi’s pure, unconcealed admiration when Oikawa had ruffled his hair, thought of the way Kindaichi had said “good afternoon” to Iwaizumi without even a hint of a blush, and Kunimi said it again. “Sure.”

They rode their bikes home in the cold evening wind, the sun a melting amber coin in the sky. Kunimi’s fingers were frozen, numbly gripped around the handlebars. He was tired, and so was Kindaichi- the bakery had closed two hours later than usual to take full advantage of Valentine’s Day. Their feet turned the pedals sluggishly, backs slumped upon the seats. They rode in silence because Kindaichi was too exhausted to start a conversation and Kunimi was too drained to respond.

Besides, words weren’t either of their strong points. Kindaichi would stutter and take forever to say what he was trying to say; Kunimi didn’t really talk at all. Their friendship was action, give and take: homework, movies, walk, touch, presence.

They got to Kunimi’s house, and Kunimi got his keys out and unlocked the door and stepped inside. His cold face and numb fingers came back to life with the whoosh of the heater, and Kunimi flicked on the light and took off his shoes and padded his way over to the kitchen in his socks. He was supposed to make the bakery’s Good Morning Rolls, a bread roll that he’d made on accident but had nearly doubled the bakery’s customers.

Kunimi’s _Kanjo_ could, on occasion, be helpful. Bread rolls weren’t really meant for any specific spell, but one day Kunimi had been baking and Kindaichi had told him a really funny joke, and then his resulting happiness had slipped out of his body and into the dough. After eating it, customers said that it made their day brighter and their work easier, and the rolls had became a regular fixture upon their menu. Since Kunimi was absolutely against working the morning shift, he’d agreed to prepare the rolls the previous night for the next day.

He took the yeast and flour out of the cabinets and ran his hands under the water. “Can I watch?” Kindaichi asked, and Kunimi nodded. At first, he tried to explain how this and that and everything went, but his hands were so used to the motions and amounts that it was more just muscle memory by now.

Kindaichi didn’t mind. He sat on a stool next to Kindaichi and watched him mix and roll out the dough, giving the occasional yawn. Kunimi didn’t realize Kindaichi had fallen asleep until Kindaichi’s head hit Kunimi’s shoulder.

Kunimi startled. He was just about to add his magic, and something warm and gold cascaded from his fingertips and folded itself into the bread. It didn’t feel like anything he’d experienced before, but Kunimi told himself it was just some strange kind of happiness, too tired to mull it over more. Kindaichi’s exhaustion was contagious; Kunimi fell asleep as soon as he pulled the bread out of the oven, slumping over a stool and closing his eyes against the kitchen table.

\---

Kunimi woke up the next morning to the beeping of Kindaichi’s watch. Kunimi yawned and blinked himself awake. He was lethargic in the morning, so he spent about ten minutes staring off into space and thinking about how wow, he really should be getting ready, until Kindaichi prodded him hard in the side and galvanized Kunimi into a sloth-like version of action.

The cold morning air seeped into his systems and he made it about five minutes before opening time to hand off his bread rolls to some kid named Hinata, whose magic was said to be “messy but enthusiastic.” Then, because school didn’t start until an hour later, he took a nap in one of the bakery’s booths, deaf to the sounds of students streaming in for their breakfast. He woke up to Kindaichi once again poking him, saying, “Your ability to fall asleep at anywhere and anytime is slightly terrifying.”

“Yeah, but I have you to wake me up,” Kunimi said, and Kindaichi smacked him good-naturedly with his backpack and they pedaled off to school just in time for roll call.

At lunch, Kunimi heard some girl talking about Confession Rolls from the nearby bakery and how they were just the coolest thing ever. Kunimi rolled his eyes, because _honestly,_ he couldn’t understand everyone’s fixation on love charms, so it wasn’t until the girl said Kunimi’s name that Kunimi went, “What?”

The girl said, “You know, your Confession Rolls?” She looked at Kunimi like he was crazy. “My friend wants one.”

“My what rolls?” Kunimi asked.

The girl looked at Kunimi like _he_ was the one off of his rocker when _she_ was the one that had it all wrong. Clearly, she’d mixed up his Good Morning Rolls with some random love pastry. Still, as the day wore on, Kunimi started hearing the words “Confession Rolls” more and more often.

“Apparently, if you eat one,” he heard some boy saying, “the person you like will confess to you if they reciprocate. Think Aiko likes me back?”

And over and over again, Kunimi heard his name being associated with the rolls, and when the bell rang at the end of the day Kunimi sprinted out the doors and took off at twice his normal speed, not even bothering to wait up for Kindaichi.

There was an actual line snaking outside the door and around the block, and when Kunimi came inside Kuroo asked, “Damn, bro, what did you _do_?”

“No idea myself,” Kunimi said. “So. What’s this about these Confession Rolls that everyone says I’ve made?”

Kuroo shifted from one leg to the other. “Well, uh, it’s kind of a funny story. So I ate one of your rolls this morning, and Kenma confessed to me, and then Sawamura ate one, and Sugawara confessed to him, so the manager started marketing your rolls as ‘Confession Rolls’ and now sales are off the roof.”

Kunimi stayed silent.

Kuroo leaned closer. “So. Was this some stunt you planned for Valentine’s Day? Or,” Kuroo said, teasingly, teasingly- “Do you have a crush on someone, and it just… slipped out?”

Kunimi said, “So. You and Kenma, huh?”

Kuroo’s face broke into a sappy grin before he said, “Yeah, but don’t even think you’re getting out of this one.” Kunimi rolled his eyes. He didn’t even bothering denying the crush part. Even though it was true, it would be a complete waste of effort- Kuroo’s hair was the only thing that had ever argued with Kuroo and won.

What Kunimi was worried about was the fact he’d _accidentally made Confession Rolls._ It was stressing Kunimi out, and that always made Kunimi’s magic spiral out of control.

Mai Nametsu, marketer and manager extraordinaire and current bane of Kunimi’s life, came out of the back room with a pleading expression already affixed upon her face. “No,” Kunimi said flatly.

“Please?” Mai asked. She wound a piece of hair around her finger nervously. “Just until V-Day? I’ve already promised a lot of people…”

Kunimi already felt his internal resolve crumbling. Dammit. Why did Mai have to be so genuine? She kind of reminded him of Kindaichi, the way she was kind to him without ever being patronizing or demanding something out of him in return. Kunimi hated that. He hated how he couldn’t resist. “Fine,” Kunimi answered, his voice a peculiar mixture of steel wire and deflated balloon. He locked himself in the back room, head resting on his knees.

Kunimi had a sudden thought. Kindaichi would totally be the type to eat a Confession Roll, too timid to ask the subject of his admirations out himself. What if Kindaichi had a crush on someone that Kunimi didn’t know about, and then Kunimi had to be the third wheel on their date? He should feel a gush of support for his friend, something other than the disgust currently worming its way through his gut.

He decided that the disgusted feeling was from the idea of having to share Kindaichi with someone else. Kunimi was aware he was lazy and selfish, but never to the point where it stood in the way of their friendship. He would have to work on that. And then Kunimi decided to stop thinking at all because all his brain activity might cause his magic to blow up the bakery, and Kunimi was fairly certain he’d get fired if that happened.

That night, as he prepared the next day’s Confession Rolls, he drew up that curious golden warmth from inside him and couldn’t help but wonder where it was coming from. Maybe he should see Matsukawa about it, see if his _Kanjo_ was mutating or something and deciding Kunimi’s feelings for him. That was probably the case.

Because Kunimi didn’t like anyone. He didn’t.

\---

The next day, the rolls sold out the instant they hit the shelves, and all throughout Kunimi’s school were girls and boys alike taking small, trembling bites, waiting to see whether or not their feelings were reciprocated.

People stopped Kunimi in the hallways, his classes, in the freaking bathroom to ask for free Confession Rolls, claiming debts stretching back to Elementary School.

And impossibly, the newest gossip the school was aflame with was about Kunimi himself. People were placing bets on who Kunimi’s crush was, whether or not they reciprocated, how soon they would get together. It took all of Kunimi’s willpower not to end up setting the school on fire, though, well, that might not be such a _bad_ thing, considering how the day was going.

He and Kindaichi sat together at lunch, Kindaichi glaring at anyone who came near Kunimi with a hopeful look in their eye. Kunimi concentrated on carefully removing cabbage from his bento, taking it out piece by piece with chopsticks and depositing them onto a napkin.

Kunimi said, “I don’t like anyone.”

Kindaichi said, “Okay.”

“Do you want a roll?” Kunimi procured a Confession Roll from his backpack and warmed it up with a steam charm. It sat on the table, an innocent little lump sprinkled with nuts and sesame.

Kindaichi stared at it for a second before shaking his head and handing it back. “No.”

\---

Kunimi was working in the kitchen when the famous Oikawa Tooru came- no, waltzed, no, _flounced_ \- in. He stood among the shelves and cupboards perfectly at home, an apron badly tied around his waist, a streak of flour coating his cheek. He looked dignified. A king standing among commoners. Kuroo followed behind him, saying, “You’re not supposed to be back here.”

Oikawa waved a dismissive hand. “Not the point.” He turned around and looked Kunimi dead in the eye. “Are you the one who’s been baking the Confession Rolls?” Kunimi stared back, a blank look on his face, and gave a single nod.

“Well,” Oikawa said, “because of you, Iwa-chan _finally_ confessed to me, and-”

Kuroo snorted. “You couldn’t get him to confess on your own?”

Oikawa glared at him and continued. “And so, my talented kouhai, I am here to offer you-” he paused, spreading his arms out wide- “some of my coveted _love advice_.”

“Oh my god,” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. “Please, Kunimi, run while you can.”

But Kunimi remained where he was, partly because he wanted to prove that he was immune to Oikawa’s charisma, partly because- well, he wasn’t. Oikawa was impossible to ignore.

“That boy you like,” Oikawa said. “Tall, has a shallot in place of hair? He looks at you as if he has a crush on you.” And then Oikawa strode out of the kitchen, humming a catchy melody, apron strings hanging haphazardly down his back.

Kunimi stood stock-still, whisk trailing batter into the bowl. Kuroo flattened his mouth as if he were tasting something unpleasant and said, “Don’t let Oikawa hear me say this, but he’s kind of right.”

\---

Kunimi couldn’t bring himself to look at Kindaichi on the way home, opting instead to study street signs with unnecessary vigor.

“Are you mad?” Kindaichi asked. They were five houses away from the Kindaichi residence. “Did I do something? If I did, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m just tired,” Kunimi said, and it was only partially untrue. He was exhausted from everyone else knowing more about his love life than he himself did, as if it were a class reading that Kunimi was two chapters behind on because he hadn’t been paying attention.

On top of that, he had to go home and bake more confession rolls, had to draw that strange feeling from inside of him and lay it bare for everyone to see. Seriously, shouldn’t it be _Kunimi_ that got to decide whether he liked his best friend or not?

He looked up at Kindaichi, half his face in shadow from the setting sun, resembling more a radish than ever. Did Kunimi find Kindaichi hot? The thought struck him so suddenly that he burst out laughing, because _come on_.

“What?” Kindaichi asked, turning around, giving Kunimi the full turnip effect. Kunimi only laughed harder, collapsing against the bike handlebars. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kunimi wheezed, nearly falling off the bike. Feeling as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether or not to jump.

“Uh, okay, sure,” Kindaichi said, as if he were unsure of Kunimi’s sanity. “See you tomorrow?”

“Bye,” Kunimi said, and something in the earnest way Kindaichi grasped his backpack strap with one hand and waved with the other caused Kunimi’s chest to tighten and his heart to swell to twice its size.

\---

Kunimi dreamed strangely that night.

It started off normally enough, a scene that his brain had stored and recycled a hundred times over by now. Kunimi was in the library with Kindaichi, and even though it was a memory from third grade, Kindaichi looked as he did now. Except kind of not. For some reason, Kunimi’s brain couldn’t perfectly replicate the planes of his best friend’s face.

They were in the library for the extra magic sessions they’d both been subjected to since the start of Elementary School. Kunimi was now substantially behind because of his _Kanjo_ , and the teachers were talking of sending him off to a non-magical Academy. Kindaichi was there because he had trouble controlling his magic- it rolled off him in volatile waves, bouncing off the walls and ceiling and washing over everything that happened to be near him.  

They weren’t friends yet. While Kindaichi seemed nice, his magic certainly wasn’t, and Kunimi was sick of being collateral damage. Today’s exercise involved them levitating a rock, and Kunimi’s frustration was causing the rock to vibrate and glow angry shades of red, while Kindaichi’s rock had smashed through the skylight and punctured several holes in the shelves. Furthermore, Kunimi’s chair was being dragged this way and that because of Kindaichi’s powers, and Kunimi was resigning himself to never casting a spell again.

His magical family would be disappointed, but Kunimi couldn’t stand this anymore. He stood up. “I’m leaving.”

“Kunimi,” Kindaichi said. It was the first time he’d spoken.

“Yeah?” Kunimi answered back.

Kindaichi took his hand and pulled him back into to his chair. A wave of inexplicable tranquility washed over Kunimi, and his rock hovered a perfect three feet in the air; so did Kindaichi’s. Kunimi stared at the rocks with wide eyes.

It was the first time Kunimi had first gotten a spell right, and he let out a scream of victory. Next to him, Kindaichi was jumping up and down. Kunimi raised his hand for a high-five (in third grade, he still initiated those kinds of gestures), and then Kindaichi faked out at the last minute and crowed, “Jellyfish”. Kunimi leaned in as if to slap him, and this was the part of the dream where Kindaichi was supposed to run out of the library cracking up.

But Kindaichi didn’t. Instead, he cupped Kunimi’s face and kissed him. It didn’t feel like anything. Kunimi had never kissed anyone, so it was a part of a dream that his brain couldn’t supply any sensory information to. It was when Kunimi woke up that it hit him, the thought of Kindaichi’s mouth _actually_ on his, and for the first time in Kunimi’s life he had no trouble getting out of bed.

\---

It was the day before Valentine’s Day, and Kunimi was much too aware of Kindaichi’s every move.

He wrangled it under control during his magical classes because who knew what his _Kanjo_ would do with the emotional remnants of last night’s dream. He didn’t want to accidentally cause everyone in a five-mile radius to develop a crush on Kindaichi- honestly, he was terrified to cast any spells at all.

The feelings planted themselves inside the little cracks in Kunimi’s apathy that he didn’t even know were there, like water dripping through a tarp. Kunimi wanted to shrink away. He was afraid, definitely, and disgusted. He always felt disgusted when he heard others mooning over their crushes, and he applied those same standards to himself.

It was _awful_. Kunimi’s eyes seemed to have a will of their own, stubbornly following Kindaichi around like a baby duck following its mother. And then Kunimi would have to tear his eyes away, cheeks heating up, and in his peripheral vision Kindaichi was _still_ there. Kunimi stared at his worksheet until the numbers started to blur together, and still he refused to let his gaze wander off.

It was too bright. His awareness made his senses too acute. An accidental bump of shoulders sent Kunimi’s pulse skyrocketing; an offhand comment became a puzzle that Kunimi was desperate to solve. Kunimi’s name, spoken in Kindaichi’s voice, took on a low, foreign shape. He wondered how ‘Akira’ would sound. He wondered how it would feel whispered against his skin. The pillow next to Kunimi glowed red hot and burst in an explosion of feathery down.

“Kunimi-kun,” his teacher said, clearly unimpressed, “we’re supposed to be working on Invisibility Charms.”

“Sorry,” Kunimi said. A note hit him in the back of his head.

_Are you alright? Your_ Kanjo _hasn’t been acting up again, has it?_

Kunimi pocketed the note and turned to look at Kindaichi on the opposite side of the room. Kindaichi’s face was tense with worry. Kunimi mouthed, “It’s fine,” but something in Kunimi’s expression must have said otherwise, because Kindaichi’s pillow disappeared and reappeared in a bang of smoke. The desk caught on fire.

_Just like old times_ , Kunimi thought wryly. The girl next to Kindaichi screamed and the teacher hastily cast an Extinguishing Spell. Kindaichi’s face turned purple, and then the teacher hustled Kunimi and Kindaichi out of the room and made them stand out in the hall for fifteen minutes, forbidding them to speak to each other.

Most of the time, their silence was familiar, comfortable. Today, it was tense. Kindaichi looked as if he wanted to say something; Kunimi shut his eyes and pretended to sleep. Ten minutes in, he cracked an eye open and Kindaichi was watching him with an odd expression on his face. Kunimi quirked an eyebrow, and Kindaichi immediately looked away, a blush rising on his cheeks.

Kunimi thought of the Confession Rolls. He understood now what his _Kanjo_ wanted- for Kunimi to confess, for Kunimi to make his feelings known, or else all that limerence would swirl inside him with nowhere to go.

Kunimi was the perpetual procrastinator, though, so he thought, _Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow._

\---

The rolls weighed heavily on Kunimi’s conscience as he pedaled to the bakery the next morning. The fields rolled past in various shades of enchanted pink, and some powerful weather wizard had even shaped the clouds into hearts, floating across the sky.

“Hey,” Kindaichi said. “You won’t have to bake any more Confession Rolls after today.”

“Yeah,” Kunimi agreed. His heart pounded. Sweat trickled down his neck.

Kindaichi was quiet for a moment, and then he finally said, “I know it was because of your _Kanjo_. So you have feelings for someone.”

Kunimi ducked his head down and didn’t reply. He couldn’t breathe. The gravity of the moment dragged him down, and he fought against it. _Now. Now._ He inhaled, exhaled, and his mouth tilted up in a little half-smile.

“If they don’t like you back,” Kindaichi was saying, “They’re an idiot.”

Kunimi laughed.

“ _What_?”

“I like you, Yuutarou,” Kunimi said. “I hope you’re not your own definition of an idiot.”

“No, _you_ are,” Kindaichi said, shoving Kunimi. He was grinning. “What took you so long, Akira?”

“You know me,” Kunimi said. “I always take as long as possible to get something done.”

“You would think I’d be the exception.”

“You’re not.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you aren’t.”

Kunimi laughed again. Right at that moment, it wasn’t his usual apathy he felt. It was peaceful and calm and warm. Kindaichi was laughing too. Both of them laughing, whizzing through the snow.


End file.
